


Earth, Moon, and Planets

by thegirlwholoveshorror



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Military, Bipolar Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder, Dark Jared Padalecki, Drunk Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Jobs, Heterosexual Sex, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Nightmare Party - Freeform, Oral Sex, Pining Jensen Ackles, Puppy Love, References to Drugs, Soldier Jared Padalecki, Timeline Shenanigans, Timeline What Timeline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-03 19:30:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19470634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlwholoveshorror/pseuds/thegirlwholoveshorror
Summary: Jensen was resolved he would take this secret to the grave.





	1. I Want To Believe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's strange, but the more he lied, the more he began to believe his lies...

**December 12 2010**

Christmas decorations adorned the walls of the café, and the whole place was packed with young customers. On the radio, Maria Carey's 'All I Want From Christmas Is You _'_ played. 

It was Christmas time, and to Jensen, the worst time of the year.  


Jensen loved it here though; the atmosphere was always so kitsch, the coffee good, the cups big, and all the students came here to study, so Jensen could easily mingle with them, maybe even make himself believe he was one of them. Here, he wasn't just a _nobody_ ; he could play make believe and pretend he's a student: a somebody.  


The café's radio always played the hippest songs of the moment, from singers like Rhianna, Lady Gaga, Drake and Katy Perry. 

_It feels like I was mercilessly gunned down_ , thought Jensen as he took a sip of his freshly brewed coffee. The coffee refreshed his senses, bringing him a sense of clarity to his otherwise foggy, sleep deprived mind.

For whatever reason, on his notepad, he _**scribbled**_ down the lyrics to Cher's 'Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down).' His emotions were too unbearable for him to write down his own thoughts.  


Two months ago, he was a student at New York University: a pretty good college. Now, he was reduced to this: sitting alone in a café nearby the college that he no longer attends, watching people busily walk by, just trying to get on with this busy lives. Jensen tried to feel numb and not think about the shit that was currently hitting the fan, but he knew it was losing battle.

On his table, books are laid out, so as to make him appear like a normal student, and continued to look outside. He licked his lips and immediately tasted the vodka from the night before.

The shear darkness of the last month had ransacked his mind with the threat of its empty spaces. And even still, Jensen cultivated despair and silence. Jensen then looked at his laptop screen and sighed: he'd have to come up with a plan.

He just didn't know what to do yet.

_i was five and he was six_  
_we rode on horses made of sticks_  
_he wore black and I wore white_  
_he would always win the fight_

_bang bang, he shot me down_  
_bang bang, I hit the ground_  
_bang bang, that awful sound_  
_bang bang, my baby shot me down_

**December 14 2010**

It was dark and cold outside, and Jensen felt a shiver go through him with every gust of wind. He was wearing form fitting jeans and a snug, dark green V-neck T-shirt.

He stood smoking a cigarette outside the club his roommate was in with their friends, and enjoyed being alone in the quiet of the early morning, as everything was so still.

The sidewalks were slick with ice and snow, and he didn't care that it was 1 am and that he wasn't wearing a coat.

He was drunk and he felt good like this, alive.

There were no stars in the city, but Jensen could imagine them tonight.

He'd spent almost the entire night french kissing his roommate's friend, Cynthia, whispering sweet nothings in her ears on the dance floor. It wasn't like Jensen to do something like this, with anyone let alone a girl, but he felt nothing when he did it. Even though he's gay, he wanted to drown in how nice and sweet she was towards him. She was so willing, and he wanted her to swallow him _**whole.**_

And I guess you can say she did...

**February 2011**

As Jensen felt sexy and was quite in **_demand_** these days, he got to party a lot. Quite strangely, he made friends, then those friends multiplied and so on. Jensen had never been cool, but suddenly he was a bit of a center of attention. Unfortunately, what they did together was mostly drink and do drugs, but it felt good to Jensen. His days went by like a blur...

Jensen spent all his days working, hanging with different friends, faking going to school and drinking alone. Jensen's life now had an order, and he could keep busy.

_seasons came and changed the time_  
_when I grew up, I called him mine_  
_he would always laugh and say_  
_"Remember when we used to play?"_

_bang bang, I shot you down_  
_bang bang, you hit the ground_  
_bang bang, that awful sound_  
_bang bang, I used to shoot you down_

**March 2 2011**

Jensen stood on the corner of a busy street in the middle of the business and financial district of New York City. It smelled like urine, and along the sidewalks were homeless men and women begging for help. In his hands was a check from his parents to cover a large part of his second semester tuition at New York University. Because Jensen was still pretending to go to school, his parents had given it to him. Unfortunately for Jensen, they had been bugging him now for weeks, asking him when the school would cash it in.

What a horror!

Jensen wasn't sure if what he was doing now was a felony, so he had to be meticulous and lay low. He wore a dark baseball cap and dark coat and entered the bank.

Depositing the money into his bank account at the ABM, he wondered now if he would get caught.

He also considered what to do with the money.

**April 2011**

Jensen had ordered what was now cold pizza and bought red wine: his companion was two hours late.

Jensen didn't know whether he should be irate or not care about it, but he chose not to think about it or mention anything to Alex as it wasn't a date and he was probably just being overemotional, as usual: Jensen had invited Alex over to stay the night because he had an interview tomorrow in the city. Anyway, perhaps Alex had legitimate reasons to be tardy.

Unfortunately for Jensen, Alex didn't seem to mind that he was late and gobbled down the pizza and wine within a moment's flash, before getting up from the table and pulling on Jensen's hand so they'd go to bed... 

And, fortunately for them both, Jensen had a large queen size bed.  


Alas, when a very naked Jensen straddled a half naked Alex, Alex let out a small lust filled grunt. That's when Jensen looked down surprised, feeling Alex growing hard beneath him. “You're hard,” said Jensen, shifting across his lap.

“You're sitting on my cock,” said Alex. “What did you expect?”

They stared at each other in the moonlight. The truth is that Jensen didn't know what to expect. He'd never gotten this up and close with anyone else's dick before. Feeling safe in Alex's hands though because he was an old friend, he pressed himself up against him, smiled, and rubbed himself up and down a few times.

“Do you have anything?”

“Let's just fool around,” replied Jensen as he pressed down a little harder, resulting in a low moan and gasp from Alex.  


“Alright, but no kissing,”

“I'm not a whore, Alex,” said Jensen before he leaned down and pressed his lips against Alex's. Jensen lifted his hand from its position next to Alex's head and trailed it down over his chest, to the bulge in his shorts. Jensen felt the nerve endings in my own dickhead twitch as he felt the hard length through Alex's shorts under his fingertips. He wondered what it was like to have one like this in him.  


Then, as Jensen went to deepen the kiss, Alex's nose suddenly scrunched and he said, “You taste like an ashtray,”

“Fine,” huffed Jensen as he picked his jeans up off the floor next to the bed, next to where they'd thrown the bed-sheets earlier. “I'll brush my teeth,” he said. “Don't you dare move,”  


Even though it was April, Jensen had a small Christmas tree lit in the corner of his room, along with candles lit on the dressers. Jensen wasn't trying to make it romantic; he just always liked it like this.  


**May 5 2011**

Jensen was high and had had a lot of Heineken's. It was Wednesday May 5th 2011, 2:30 am, and he was on the veranda of one of his friend's houses. They had become friends after meeting each other through a mutual friend. Alvin was the lead singer and guitarist of a rock band. This house actually belonged to the entire band.

Around him, the tables were littered with empty beer cans and bottles, half empty glasses of liquor, ashtrays and opened packs of cigarettes. The air was full of smoke, and in the corner stood a mountain of cases of beer.

His head was leaned back against the cushions of his friend's couch, having only just woken up. Nearly, he could hear a couple of his friend's band-mates talking negatively about him, like they couldn't understand why he was there. He figures they probably thought that he was still asleep, but that's only if they cared at all that he could hear them.

Jensen then felt Alvin sit down next to him, and his hand make its way across his left thigh, to his hand which laid in the empty space between his legs. His squeezed his hand as tears started to pour from Jensen's eyes. Alvin's Mohawk ticked the side of his face.

“Whenever you close your eyes, you always get this really sad look on your face,” Jensen heard him say.

“I'm sorry. Just ignore them. They're idiots,”

That's when Jensen felt Alvin's tongue run over the line of his cheekbones, licking his tears up with all their salty goodness.

Jensen opened his eyes and turned to look at Alvin. That's when Jensen saw those dark chocolate, brown orbs gazing right back at him, so attentive and focused on only him.

**July 2011**

It was time to face the music.

Jensen's life was now a complete lie, and he couldn't go on living with it. Unfortunately for Jensen, his lie had led to more lies, and now it was too late to go back. A lot of people depended on him, and he was lying to them all. But he'd never planned on living this long! What was he supposed to do?

And so his mind was forming a plan. He'd get on his knees and beg forgiveness when he told his parents that he was dropping out of college because he didn't like his courses. Then he'd drop 90% of his friends because the less people he lied to, the better.

**September 4 2011  
**

As Jensen was brokenhearted, severely depressed and suicidal, it became easier to slide into the sweet torture of being mindless and on the down spiral.

Drinking was Jensen's way to ease the pain.

And Jensen spent his days engrossed in Jared's Facebook feed.

He locked himself in his bedroom every night and drank until he passed out, with pictures of Jared in his eyes and songs from every corner of the emotional spectrum in his head, driving him _**nuts**_. Lying down, if he would just lay still, he could fade away into the shadows of his room, like his pain could just drain away with his blood in an endless dream of fire.

When Jensen wasn't dreaming about tornadoes chasing him, he was dreaming of Jared in all his glory.

It's not that he was obsessed with Jared; it's just that he was _**completely**_ obsessed with Jared, and just basically wanted to give up on everything and everyone to be with him. Even though Jensen had lost everything, his curiosity towards the thing that ruined his life still remained. So what if he was a broken record?

And so what if Jared was fucking Sandy, Jensen was the one Jared gravitated around every chance he got.

_music played and people sang_  
_just for me the church bells rang_

_now he's gone, I don't know why_  
_and 'till this day, sometimes I cry_  
_he didn't even say goodbye_  
_he didn't take the time to lie_

_bang bang, he shot me down_  
_bang bang, I hit the ground_  
_bang bang, that awful sound_  
_bang bang, my baby shot me down_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :):):)


	2. Horror Castle

**October 22 2010**

It was a day like any other day.

On the nightstand and the floor next to the bed were empty bottles of beer, from the nearly empty 24-pack in the corner that he'd bought just the day before yesterday.

Some were knocked over onto their sides with a light spill; others, still standing up.

Tick, tock.

It was three in the morning, then four, then five.

Time was Jensen's fucking enemy.

And Jensen felt bad. He felt really bad. He couldn't get out of bed or shower. In fact, he hadn't showered or shaved in four days and hadn't eaten in two because, what was the point of getting up? His emotions were conflicted, all too raw and heavy for him to bear. It was a nightmare. He lay in bed, so depressed and disgusted with the world and himself that he couldn't find a reason to get up. He wanted to, but ultimately would, cancel everything in his diary for the day, like yesterday and the day before.

Life just wasn't fun or funny anymore: he preferred to stay in bed and cry.

In contrast however, Jensen's bed was warm and soft from his body heat, and, just like ''this''ーcocooning in this little heavenー, he could escape into his sleep, away from this nightmare of a life that he was living and into the blackness; the unusual calm...

His life was now slowly killing him, and he had wanted to escape it for so long... _All_ _my life_ , Jensen thought, _I've always been so different._

As it goes, Jensen was so depressed that he hadn't left his bedroom for the last two weeks.

 _A_ _ll I want to do is stay home with my sadness for all of my days, where I don't have to fight my depression anymore and can just bury myself in it._ He could cry and cry. And in Jensen's mind, it was a good plan because Jensen knew about crying from experience, and alone was the only way he knew how to cry.

Maybe he was being melodramatic, but he could never think clearly before, and he couldn't now, especially not now after what had happened with Jared at this party.

 _I can't just let it all go, can I?_ Jensen asked himself as he curled up on his side and sunk deeper under the big thick and white duvet of his bed, staring at Jared's Facebook page on his laptop. He looked at pictures of Jared hugging and kissing Sandra; he looked at photos of him smoking, drinking, holding big guns, hunting, smiling and sometimes even cooking, dressed in camouflage. Anyone else would have turned away and maybe run for the hills, but Jensen was drawn to Jared like a moth to a flame.

College wasn't all that it was cracked up to be: with a constantly heavier workload, sitting in class, wondering what Jared was doing and where it all went wrong...

And although Jensen had always been prone to depression and intense highly elevated moods, this had to be his very first actual depressive episode, but he couldn't sense what was happening.

Since Jared's party, he just hadn't been feeling all too good. He'd never felt happy, but this time he still managed to feel worse.

There was a weight in his chest and a nervous bleeding in his head, as shocking and paralyzing as a prolonged scream of agony. Jensen still couldn't believe that Jared was with Sandy now...

However, everything outside Jensen's shitty little apartment was disgustingーit kept getting colderー, and everything inside Jensen's very soul hurtーalmost as if someone had reached inside and sliced him open, then pulled out his intestines and hung them from here to the next town over. That's why Jensen had missed all his classes from the last two weeks: he didn't have the physical or mental energy to get out of bed and face the world.

He'd spend his late and early morning nights drinking; his days napping.

Why should he bother with anything else? His life wasn't working, and he was sick of hanging to this stupid life, and on all for _**nothing**._

And so, at the end of every day, although it felt like he'd won a small war; it still was a losing struggle. He'd survived another day, but was completely losing his fucking mind... and there was nothing he could do about it! What was wrong with him? What had happened to his live to live? And where had his friends and family gone? Moreover, why did it feel like he was dying all of a sudden?

Before now, Jensen had never been someone to drink alone or to want to drink alone, but it seems like the tables had turned on him there too: now, he couldn't get through a single night without a couple dozen drinks. Jared had introduced him to drinking for fun, but now he was always drunk. He'd lost his faith!

The worst of all is that he didn't even know what he was going through.

Jensen couldn't talk and couldn't bear the thought of going outside... His anxiety and depression were all too difficult to bear; however, at the same time, he had created a peaceful space in his home dedicated to relaxation and mindfulness, and so, although he'd lost all the joy in his life that he'd had since graduating high school, he'd still managed to find a quiet place to hide and lay in his darkest hour. That had so count for something, right? pondered Jensen.

Jensen had even turned down Tom's invitation to his brother's wedding next month. How could he when he'd lost interest in everything? He didn't care anymore about carrying on hobbies, friends, work—even food and sex. It didn't matter how kind, sweet, handsome, strong and all together amazing Tom was, he wanted to be left alone to cry. Although, at first, he'd believed that Tom could help him through his pain, he was starting to think that nothing could pull him out of it, and no one would understand him anyway.

What could they do to help?

He wanted to to disappear, to vanish...!

**October 24 2010**

Tick, tock.

The clock on Jensen's wall struck 12:00 pm in his bedroom, as he lay in bed, the light from the open curtains burning his eyes. He had a course starting in an hour, but Jensen still didn't feel well enough to get out of bed and go to class.

As matter of fact, the only times he ever went out now was to go to work, and he only did that two or three times a week.

It felt like he'd entered a whole new level of depression. The alcohol, cigarettes and pot didn't help him alleviate the emotional pain anymore.

Would he feel better in a week? It'd be too late by then. If anything, he may as well just start planning his suicide. Jensen wasn't very resourceful, but he figured pills, knives, drugs and alcohol could fix the problem. It couldn't hurt to try.

Time was running out, like sand passing through the neck of an hourglass.

And, you know, time is so fucking important, thought Jensen. If you don't keep up with the others, you'll get left behind, and that'll never be okay: you'll miss out everything; you'll be left for ** _dead._**

Maybe he was just being melodramatic again; maybe it was nothing like everyone would say it was if only they knew... However, nobody wanted to think that anything was wrong with Jensen, and it was clearly an awful feeling, trying to decide if he had the strength to get out of bed or not each morning; as it turns out, he didn't have much strength anymore for anything.

Not to mention, Jensen's parents had taught him mainly one thing, and that was that the point of life was to work, pay taxes and die.

So how he could he live if he couldn't even do that? And what was the point of sticking around when it felt like he was only destined to be unhappy or hurt by everyone and everything?

**October 29 2010**

Jensen sighed as he looked at the clock on his wall, which showed that it was four o'clock in the afternoon.

Tick, tock.

His phone on the nightstand next to him rang then buzzed with a new message, but he ignored it.

He just wanted to be free from the prison of this terrible thinking pattern that he had and away from everything else for that matter... He was tired and fed up of trying to keep alive and feign being okay for everybody, and he was trying to remember what the point of living was, but was coming up short-handed all too much lately.

Alas, he was sad, but that would be an understatement.

Whence would he feel okay again? Jensen still had work, friends and school; he had duties and responsibilities...

Would he wake up tomorrow and just suddenly feel better?

After all, after careful consideration, if he didn't start going to his classes soon again, he would have to die.

It's not like he had a choice. His parents would disown him if he didn't follow through with their plan―they'd hang him by his neck. He'd be humiliated in front of everyone he'd known in high school. He'd gone to a private school, and his schoolmates only knew one thing, and that was to take the high road in everything; for them, it was university. And when all was said and done, what else did he have if he didn't have college? A shitty part-time minimum wage job with mean colleagues? A family who rejects him any chance they get? Friends who were moving on without him? He couldn't foresee much of a life for himself...

He had nothing; nothing to live for.

He was running out of days.

And he was drowning in a sea of grief and depression.

His life had lost all meaning, and he didn't have a reason not to kill himself anymore.

Tick, tock.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

**_Jensen's end was here._ **

**November 2010**

And just like that, another year was coming to a close, and Jensen was felt alone with his thoughts; just to waste his time with them.  


Jensen has said it and he'll say it again: everyone and **_everything_** has its price. Even if you value things or stand by your principles, anyone can be bought or sold over just about anything, and that includes you.

We're all made of money, and we all get to that breaking point where and when we'd trade it all in for a little glamour or popularity.

Although Jensen doesn't really think that way, he tells himself this. And to be honest it's a depressing thought to have when you're so full of hope and innocence, and it's also one that comes at a price. One moment, you're asleep dozing and counting sheep, and the next you're waking up to the whole world just packing up and leaving you behind.

And if the depression doesn't kill you, its consequences most certainly will because, after all, you've basically been thrown away like trash by everyone you ever knew or loved.

Even with a thousand years of experience in getting rejected, it's still more painful than ever to see everyone just rejecting you all at once.

Nothing compares to this. Along with losing Jared, it's the greatest emotional pain that Jensen's ever felt. He feels as though his guts have been ripped out and he's bleeding to death, but he welcomes the pain because at least he's feeling something for a change. It's the only thing he's ever felt that's real. His eyes widen at the realization.

Jensen feels like the glass ceiling on his life has shattered, and all its shards have just basically sunk into his heart all at once, like daggers whose sole mission was to aim for his chest. His family don't ask to see him, and Jensen feels alone and out of place in the the city.

Jensen's contemplates how he's still alive. Every day, he tells himself he'll kill himself soon.

Then, he eventually wonders if maybe he's still around for a reason.

Even if, his entire life, he'd been miserable, maybe he could still have a good time now. His family may not be around. His high school friends may not be around. Jared may not be around... However, he had his youth. And he could pretend to be happy and act more mature than he was if it meant he was rarely alone. 

And anyway, if he was going out, he was going out on chariot of _**fire.**_


End file.
